Category Archives: Movie Reviews 1940s

From the DVD case: Ever since the bus accident, nothing has been the same for Lorna Webster. She returns to the New England hometown where her family has lived for centuries. But no happy reunion awaits. She is convinced that she has become a witch, the target of a 300-year-old curse, and strange happenings soon persuade the townsfolk that she’s right. As desperately as she tries, she cannot shake the evil that seems to follow her everywhere. Caught up in a wave of hysteria, the entire town is driven to extremes. (1945, b&w)

Mark says: Any serious horror fan would be hard-pressed not to compare The Woman Who Came Back to the Val Lewton productions that were popular at the time. (See my review of Cat People for a quick background in Lewtonian plot/film devices.) Though The Woman Who Came Back follows the Lewtonian model closely, it demonstrates how delicate the scales of psychological terror and supernatural horror can be. If the scales are tipped too much on either side, the film can disintegrate before your eyes. Unfortunately, this is the problem which plagues the film at hand.

Nancy Kelly (The Bad Seed) plays Lorna Webster, a woman who left the New England town of Eben Rock under suspicious circumstances (apparently leaving her fiancé standing at the alter). The story begins a few years later and Lorna is returning to Eben Rock via bus trip. In a brief narrative we are told that one of Lorna’s ancestors, Elijah Webster, was a judge who 300 years earlier burned innocent women at the stake for witchcraft. One such woman was Jezebel Trister. Jezebel was burned with her “familiar,” a dog, and pledged to return one day to avenge her death.

As Lorna’s bus approaches Eben Rock, it picks up a strange traveler and her dog. The woman is suspiciously witch-like in appearance and seems to know all about Lorna and her family history. When the woman introduces herself as Jezebel Trister and raises her veil, Lorna screams and the bus plunges off a bridge right into Shadow Lake. Lorna is the only survivor and no trace of the mysterious woman is found, except for a black veil which is returned to Lorna as her own.

The townsfolk are immediately suspicious of Lorna’s sudden return, especially in conjunction with the bus accident. We are given hints that Lorna has always been regarded as peculiar, a woman who keeps to herself, and that perhaps other accidents in the past have been attributed to her. The only people who seem genuinely glad to see Lorna again are her fiancé, Dr. Matt Adams (John Loder, The Mysterious Doctor) and Rev. Jim Stevens (Otto Kruger, Dracula’s Daughter). Lorna and Matt immediately resume their relationship, but Lorna has suspicions that the alleged witch, Jezebel Trister, has somehow possessed her. The townsfolk are only too eager to believe the same.

From the DVD case: When Helga Hammond (Heather Angel) hears of a legend that an unholy alliance was formed between the devil and her family, whereby a male member of the family is to be sacrificed every few years, she discounts it as nonsense. But a series of attacks at the family estate by a horrific beast – part man and part wolf – seems to give credibility to the legend. When Helga’s brother Olvier (John Howard) is attacked, it appears that the legend is true. As Scotland Yard Inspector Robert Curtis (James Ellison) investigates the link between the werewolf and the family, he uncovers a shocking secret! (1942, b&w)

Mark says: The Undying Monster was produced to capitalize on the success of The Wolf Man, released a year earlier, and at first we think we’re watching a film that may rival the Universal classic.

Immediately we are drawn in by the atmospheric cinematography of Lucien Ballard and the superb direction of John Brahm (Hangover Square, The Lodger). As a clock strikes midnight, we are given mysterious views of Hammond Hall with each gong. We move from a coat of arms, to a woman’s limp (lifeless?) hand, to a Great Dane, to a suit of armor, and so on. Already, we are treated to a certain amount of apprehension and curiosity.

From the DVD case: George Zucco portrays Dr. Lorenzo Cameron, a discredited mad doctor who believes that injecting wolf blood into humans will create an invincible army of werewolves to defeat the Axis. But instead of unleashing his monster on the Nazis, he turns his creation against the scientists who had engineered his professional downfall. Despite his liberal use of a whip, Cameron finds himself unable to control his creature as it escapes on a murderous rampage. (1942, b&w)

Mark says: If The Mad Monster actually used the premise of “an invincible army of werewolves to defeat the Axis,” it may have been an interesting film. Unfortunately, this is just another PRC Poverty Row production and it struggles to hold our interest. The Mad Monster was obviously produced to cash in on the success of Universal’s The Wolf Man, released just the year before.

From the DVD case: In the famous art district of Paris, a new evil has taken up residence. A troubled and intense artist seeks out various portrait models to aid in his work. But when the paintings are finished, he strangles his models. Can the authorities catch him before he strikes again? (1944, b&w)

Mark says: I never expect much from a PRC film, so I was pleasantly surprised with the quality of Bluebeard.

PRC (Producers Releasing Corporation) is one of the Poverty Row studios (Monogram and Republic studios are two other examples). The look and feel of PRC films are usually as cheap as the term “poverty row” suggests. However, with Bluebeard, we notice some striking differences.

From the DVD case: Literary classics become screen horror classics when given the Lewton touch. Take the gothic romance of Jane Eyre, reset it in the West Indies, add the direction of Jacques Tourneur (Cat People) and the overriding terror of the living dead and you have I Walked with a Zombie. Frances Dee plays the nurse who witnesses the strange power of voodoo. (1943, b&w)

Mark says: Poor Val Lewton. First RKO sticks him with an appalling pre-tested film title like Cat People. When he reinvents the horror genre with an intelligent, engrossing, and successful film, they stick him with another lurid title: I Walked with a Zombie.

For a sensitive and serious producer, Lewton must have cringed at his new assignment. Luckily, he was able to recruit director Jacques Tourneur (Curse of the Demon), a man of similar sensibilities, for the project. Tourneur and Lewton had worked together on Cat People, and would later share the same producer/director relationship on 1943’s The Leopard Man.

From the DVD case: The studio gave Val Lewton small budgets and lurid pre-tested film titles. Lewton, working with rising filmmakers and emphasizing fear of the unseen, turned meager resources into momentous works of psychological terror. Directed by Jacques Tourneur, Cat People is the trailblazing first of Lewton’s nine horror classics. Simone Simon portrays a bride who fears an ancient hex will turn her into a deadly panther when she’s in passion’s grip. (1942,b&w)

Mark says: Cat People is such an intelligently crafted film that it is easy to forget its low budget origins. RKO, in an attempt to recoup its losses from the highly regarded, but financially disappointing, Orson Welles masterpiece, Citizen Cane, hired Val Lewton (The Leopard Man, Isle of the Dead) to produce cheap films with exploitative titles. With Cat People, Lewton not only delivered a money-making hit, but redefined the horror film genre in the process.

Simone Simon (The Devil and Daniel Webster, Curse of the Cat People) plays Irena Dubrovna, an enigmatic young dress designer obsessed with the legends of Cat People from her Serbian past. Irena believes she is a descendant of a tribe cursed to become ferocious cat-beasts when in the throes of passion, ultimately killing their lovers. This is disturbing news for her new American boyfriend, Oliver Reed, a young ship designer played by Kent Smith (The Night Stalker, Die Sister, Die!).

Oliver quickly dismisses the stories of the Cat People as fairy tales, and convinces Irena to marry him. However, Oliver learns that Irena still harbors her fears when she refuses to consummate the marriage. Eventually, he suspects Irena suffers from a psychological disorder and sends her to a psychiatrist, Dr. Louis Judd (Tom Conway, The Atomic Submarine). Dr. Judd proves to be a rather unscrupulous fellow and constantly attempts to woo Irena during his “treatment” of her.

Meanwhile, Oliver, disillusioned by his sexless marriage, takes comfort in his co-worker, Alice Moore (Jane Randolph, Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein). When Irena finally decides it is safe to consummate her marriage, Oliver states that it is too late; he is in love with Alice. Irena, now bitterly jealous and angry, begins to stalk Alice. This is where the real fun begins.

What is so striking about Cat People (and other Val Lewton’s films) is how ambiguity is used to create suspense. There are no overt transformation scenes in Cat People; we’re not even sure if Irena’s fears are justified as genuine supernatural phenomenon or simply a psychological impairment derived from her own sexual hang-ups. The stalking scenes are just as ambiguous. We are never absolutely sure if Irena is tracking Alice in the form of a panther or a human. In fact, at times, we’re not sure if Alice is being stalked at all.

While using many conventions of the form, Lewton is credited with creating (or at least defining) at least two new ones with this film: “The Walk,” in which a protagonist walks down a dark alley/hallway/path, while something may or may not be stalking in the shadows; and “The Bus,” a false scare which often acts in combination with “The Walk,” named for the loudly hissing blast from a bus’s air brakes that startles Jane Randolph (and audiences for over 50 years).

All of the primary characters are equivocal. Oliver, though seemingly true blue, is willing to take Alice as a lover when his wife’s problems become too much for him. Alice, in the guise of a good friend, announces her love for Oliver while he is in an obviously vulnerable state. Likewise, Dr. Judd is more than willing to take advantage of his position of trust to satisfy his own lascivious desires. Irena is not only a sensitive, lonely woman, but possibly a raging, homicidal beast. These complexities of plot and character only add to the tense and dark atmosphere.

On re-watching Cat People recently, I was struck by the overt sexual themes of the film. For 1942, such themes must have been regarded as risque. Sexual problems within marriage, adultery, and even the use of psychiatry certainly were not subjects encountered often in films of the era. There is little doubt that these issues enhanced the already uneasy, almost subliminal, undertones of the movie.

My favorite scene is when Alice takes a swim in a basement pool. As Alice swims (ironically, dog-paddling) we get a sense of foreboding. The water’s reflection from the pool is cast eerily on the walls and ceiling, which are already richly bathed in shadows. We hear a vague growling, and glimpse a feline shadow descending the staircase. As the tension mounts, Alice lets out one of the most sincere and truly frightening screams I have ever heard in a film. Suddenly, a light is flicked on, and there stands Irena, in her fur coat, looking innocent and asking what could be the matter. Truly a cinematic work of art.

Cat People reminds us that low budget films don’t have to mean shoddy workmanship. Using leftover sets and a belief that what is left unseen is more frightening than what is seen, Producer Val Lewton and Director Jacques Tourneur (Curse of the Demon, I Walked with a Zombie) were able to deliver a film that not only won audience approval and critical acclaim, but changed the way horror films were approached for years to come.

Look for Elizabeth Russell (Bedlam, The Corpse Vanishes) as the Cat Woman at the restaurant, and Alan Napier (more readily known to my generation as Alfred the butler from the old Batman TV series) as Doc Carver.

Scene to watch for: In a tense moment, Irena catches Oliver sharing details of their marriage with Alice. Oliver explains that Alice is a “good egg” and can understand anything. Irena responds, “There are some things a woman doesn’t want other women to understand,” and tersely walks off.

Line to listen for: “Oliver’s bride seems to be a very nice girl, and a very pretty one too. Carver tells me she’s a bit odd.”

Trivia: It is said that Val Lewton had two phobias: the fear of being touched (he even dreaded handshakes) and a fear of cats. Both phobias were utilized in the plot of Cat People.

From the video case: Sir Michael Redgrave stars as the host of a chilling gathering in a remote country house. His guests are strangers, people of whom he has dreamed, people whose lives are intricately bound by forces no one can understand. It’s an unusual and wonderfully frightening tale that cleverly intertwines logical tricks of magic with inexplicable acts from unseen powers.

Mark says: As more often than not, the video case description is not entirely accurate. Eliot Foley (Roland Culver) is the actual host of the gathering (not Redgrave), and it is the guest, Mervyn Johns (The Day of the Triffids) as architect Walter Craig who has dreamed of all the other characters.

Dead of Night is actually an anthology of six stories rolled into one. First is the overall tale which serves as the linking narrative. Within this tale are five other tales told by the various guests. The sequences are based on stories by renowned British authors such as H. G. Wells and E. F. Benson. Each tale has its own director.

I’ll briefly discuss each of the six stories below:

The Overall Story (linking narrative): Architect Walter Craig (Mervyn Johns) is baffled to find himself among a group of strangers who have been starring in his recurring nightmares. The guests respond to Mr. Craig’s story by relating their own extraordinary experiences.

Frederick Valk plays the skeptic, Dr. Van Straaten, who counters each seemingly paranormal story with a logical explanation. Ironically, it is Dr. Van Straaten who tells the most chilling tale.

Hearse Driver: A wonderful little tale of premonition as told by Mr.Grainger (Anthony Baird). Fits in well with the overall atmosphere and theme of the movie.

Christmas Party: A rather mediocre ghost story as told by the guest Sally O’Hara (Sally Ann Howes). Sally recalls a Christmas party where she encountered the ghost of a young boy. It’s quite predictable, and of all the stories, seems the most dated.

The Haunted Mirror: Ralph Michael (Children of the Damned) plays Peter Cortland, a man who comes to possess a haunted mirror. Eventually, the history of the mirror takes possession of him. Googie Withers plays his wife, Joan. I have to admit, this story spooked me upon first viewing.

Golfing Story: A silly bit of tripe about two friends who play a game of golf to win the hand of a woman they both love. The loser decides to kill himself, but returns to haunt his partner when it is discovered that he cheated. This sequence is used to break the tension, I suppose, but I think the movie would be better without it. Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne star as the golfers, and Peggy Bryan plays Mary, the object of their affections.

The Ventriloquist’s Dummy: This is by far the most interesting and chilling tale of the lot. Michael Redgrave (The Innocents) is Maxwell Frere, a ventriloquist tormented by his own dummy. The plot seems familiar today (thanks to a famous Twilight Zone episode, and the Child’s Play movies) but was certainly ahead of its time in 1945. Great direction by Alberto Cavalcanti and an astonishing performance by Mr. Redgrave propel this tale head and shoulders above the rest. Does anyone else notice a similarity between Maxwell Frere and and Psycho‘s Norman Bates?

The movie’s finale is a bizarre collage of all the tales mixed together in a nightmarish fashion, as Mr. Craig races helter-skelter to his destiny. Quite avant-garde for the time and genre.

Dead of Night would rank even higher with me except two of the tales (“Christmas Party” and “Golfing Story”) drag the average down a notch. Still, this movie deserves its classic status, and Michael Redgrave’s performance alone makes it worth your time.

From the DVD case: Mad scientist Dr. Igor Markoff (played with malicious delight by J. Carroll Naish) finds his romantic advances are scorned by a beautiful young woman who bears a striking resemblance to his dead wife. In a fury of jealous vengeance, Markoff exacts a gruesome, hideous retribution upon the young woman and her family. The Monster Maker features excellent special effects and co-stars the renowned Glenn Strange, who went on to portray the Frankenstein monster in several classic films. (1944, b&w)

Mark says: I picked up this little gem (coupled with Dead Men Walk) for a buck. I did not expect much for 4 bits a movie, but I must say I rather enjoyed this picture.

The Monster Maker is low-budget, to be sure, but the special effects are more than adequate for a film of this era and cost. Though the storyline is a bit convoluted, and often preposterous, it is entertaining enough to keep our attention.

Essentially, evil Dr. Markoff infects concert pianist Anthony Lawrence with acromegaly (a real, but rare disease) and won’t administer the cure unless Mr. Lawrence consents to letting Dr. Markoff marry his daughter, Patricia (played by Wanda McKay). Acromegaly is marked by grotesque deformities to the head, feet, and hands, thus giving Mr. Lawrence a “monstrous” appearance. There are a lot of other plot twists, but you get the gist of it.

You may recognize some of the character actors featured in this film: J. Carrol Naish from House of Frankenstein; Ralph Morgan from Night Monster; Tala Birell from The Frozen Ghost; Terry Frost of Mysterious Island, and of course, Glenn Strange who plays the Frankenstein monster in House of Frankenstein and House of Dracula.

The acting is by no means superb, but at least par for the genre. Tala Birell’s character (Maxine, Dr. Markoff’s assistant) is my favorite to watch, but mostly because her expressions strike me as humorous.

I’m not going to say this is a great film, but I will say it is an enjoyable 62 minutes, and certainly worth the 50 cents I paid for admission.

Directed by Sam Newfield (Dead Men Walk, The Flying Serpent).

Scene to watch for: Like all mad scientists, Dr. Markoff keeps a gorilla caged in his laboratory.

Line to listen for: “That cock and bull story was old in César’s time!”

Note of interest: The acromegaly motif is later used in the 1955 sci-fi classic, Tarantula (referred to as acromegalia).

From the video case: The queen of a gypsy tribe, Celeste (Nina Foch), learns that the director of a New Orleans museum has evidence proving her mother was a werewolf. She goes to the museum and the next day the museum head is found dead, killed by a wolf. His son Bob (Stephen Crane) and assistant Elsa (Osa Massen) begin investigating his death, and Bob narrowly escapes being killed. Elsa finally confesses that she is the murderess, but Celeste, turning into a wolf, tries to kill both Elsa and Bob. A bullet, however, ends the animal’s life, and dying, the wolf assumes the form of Celeste. (1944, b&w)

Mark says: Nothing like a video box description that gives away the ending of the movie. Oh well.

Cry of the Werewolf is not a bad little story, though it often struggles to keep our attention. Most of the werewolf transformation scenes occur off screen, and even when we do get a glimpse of the transformation, it’s just a sudden flash from human to dog. We never see a full-fledged werewolf, only the gypsy princess in the form of a regular wolf.

What this movie has going for it are two pretty lead actresses in Nina Foch (The Return of the Vampire) and Osa Massen (Rocketship X-M). Nina is the gypsy princess/werewolf, Celeste LaTour, and Osa plays the Transylvanian love interest, Elsa Chauvet. The other actors in this film are unspectacular.

I like that the werewolf is a woman, but that fact alone can not save this film. If more time was spent on the werewolf aspect, rather than the detective work, it could have been a much better picture. Unfortunately, this film takes interesting themes like voodooism and werewolfism and makes them rather dull.

Cry of the Werewolf (aka Daughter of the Werewolf) is directed by Henry Levin, who went on to direct Journey to the Center of the Earth.

From the video case: Bela Lugosi plays Dr. Carruthers, a small-town chemist who has been cheated by his former business partners and decides to get revenge. Rather than shoot his victims, Carruthers concocts an elaborate plan, by which he takes normal-sized bats and subjects them to an electrical device that makes them grow to monstrous proportions. Having devised a special shaving lotion that the killer bats are attracted to, the mad scientist then presents the lotion to his victims as a gift, urging them to try some on in his presence. He then leaves and waits for the bats to do their work. (1940, b&w)

Mark says: The Devil Bat gives us a glimpse into what Lugosi’s career would be reduced to in future decades. This is an extremely low budget movie, with even lower production values. I wouldn’t doubt that Ed Wood, Jr. found great inspiration in this film.

The major redeeming quality of this picture is Bela Lugosi’s (Dracula, Bride of the Monster) portrayal of the mad scientist. He hams it up to the hilt, and delivers some of the hokiest lines uttered in the history of cinema. He is especially enjoyable while wearing his goofy goggles (see image above).

The “special effects” are atrocious, and include one of the phoniest bats I have ever seen in any B-movie. Ironically, the “hoax bat” (conjured up by an ambitious photographer in the film) looks decidedly more real.

Though this movie isn’t spectacular on any level, it does hold some camp value. I would definitely recommend it to Lugosi fans, and it is worth at least one viewing for others even casually interested in the genre.

The Devil Bat is directed by Jean Yarbrough.

Scene to watch for: Lugosi listens intently for a heartbeat from a ridiculously fake bat.

Line to listen for: “Imbecile! Bombastic ignoramus!”

Trivia: You may recognize the male lead of Devil Bat (Dave O’Brien) as Ralph Wiley from the cult classic, Reefer Madness.